The Seventh Scroll

They were silent again, both of them thinking furiously. Then Royan

started, "Nicky, what if-' she broke off. "No, that won't. work." She

relapsed into frowning silence again.

Tamre broke the quiet with a sudden squeak of excitement, "There it is.

Look!'

They were both startled by the interruption. "What is it?" Royan turned

to him.

Tamre seized her arm and shook it. He was trembling with emotion. "There

it is. I told you." With his other hand he was pointing out across the

river, "There at the edge of the thorn bushes. Can't you see it?"

"What is it? What can you see?"

"The animal of John the Baptist. The holy marked creature."

Following the direction of his outflung arm, she picked out a soft,

brownish blur of movement at the edge of the thicket on the far bank. "I

don't know. It is too far-'

Nicholas scrabbled in his pack and brought out his binoculars. He lifted

and focused them, and then he began to chuckle.

"Hallelujah! Great-grandpa's reputation is safe at last." He passed the

binoculars to Royan. She focused them and found the little creature in

the field. It was three hundred yards away, but through the ten-power

lens she could make it out in detail.

It was almost half as large again as the common dikdik that they had

seen the previous day, and instead of drab grey its coat was a rich red

brown. Its most striking feature, however, was the distinct dark bars of

chocolate colour across its shoulders and back - five evenly spaced

markings that did indeed look like the imprint of fingers and thumb.

"Madoqua harperii, no less," Nicholas whispered to her.

"Sorry, great-grandfather, for doubting you."

The dik-dik stood half in shadow, wriggling its nose as it snuffled the

air. Its head was held high, suspicious and alert. The soft breeze was

quartering between them and the animal, but every so often a wayward

eddy gave it the faint whiff of humanity that had alarmed it.

Royan heard the snick of the rifle action as Nicholas worked the bolt

and chambered a round. Hurriedly she lowered the glasses, and glanced at

him. "You aren't going to shoot it?" she demanded.

"No, not at that range. Over three hundred yards, and a small target.

I'll wait for it to get closer."

"How can you bring yourself to do it?"

"How can I not? That's what I came here to do, amongst other things."

"But it's so beautiful."

"I take it, then, that it would be perfectly all right to whack it if it

were ugly?"

She said nothing, but raised the binoculars again. The eddy of the wind

must have changed, for the dik-dik lowered its head to nibble at a tuft

of coarse brown grass.

Then lifted its head again and came on down the clearing in the Thorn

scrub, stepping daintily, pausing every few paces to feed again.

"Go back. She tried to will it into safety, but it kept on coming,

meandering towards the edge of the chasm.

Nicholas rolled on to his stomach and settled himself behind the trunk

of the tree. He screwed up his hat into a soft pad on which to rest the

rifle.

"Two hundred yards," he muttered to himself "That's a fair shot. No

further." Resting the cushioned rifle on the twisted root, he aimed

through the telescopic sight. Then he lifted his head, waiting to let it

come within certain range.

Abruptly the dik-dik lifted its head again and came to a halt, quivering

with tension.

"Something he doesn't like. Dammit all, wind must have changed again,'

Nicholas growled. At that moment the little antelope bolted. It streaked

across the clearing, back the way it had come, and disappeared into the

thorn scrub.

"Go, dik-dik, go!" said Royan smugly, and Nicholas sat up and grunted

with disgust.

"I can't make out what frightened him." Then his expression changed and

he cocked his head. There was an alien sound on the air growing each

second - a harsh, rising clatter and a shrill, whining whistle.

"Chopper! What the hell!" Nicholas recognized the sound immediately. He

took the binoculars from Royan's hand and turned them to the sky,

sweeping the cloudless blue emptiness above the tops of the escarpment.

"There it is," he said grimly, adding, "Bell Jet Ranger," as he

recognized the profile. "Coming this way, by the looks of it. No point

in drawing attention to ourselves. Let's get under cover."

He shepherded Royan and the boy under the spread branches of the thorn

tree. "Sit tight," he told her. "No chance they will spot us under

here."

He watched the. approaching helicopter through the binoculars. "Probably

Ethiopian air force," he said softly.

"Anti-shufta patrol, most likely. Both Boris and Colonel Nogo warned us

that there are a lot of rebels and bandits operating down here in the

gorge-' he broke off abruptly.

"No. Hold on. That's not military. Green and red fuselage, and the red

horse emblem. None other than your old friends from Pegasus

Exploration."

The sound of the rotors crescendoed, and now with her naked eye Royan

could make out the flying horse on the fuselage of the helicopter as it

flew low across their front, half a mile out, headed down towards the

Nile.

Neither of them paid any attention to Tamre as he crouched behind Royan,

trying to hide behind her body.

His teeth were chattering with terror and his eyes rolled until the

whites showed.

"It looks as if our friend Jake Helm has got himself some fancy

transport. If Pegasus is in any way co

the other attempts on your life, then we can expect them to be breathing

heavily down our necks from now on. They are now in a position to

overlook us at will." Nicholas was still watching the aircraft through

the binoculars.

"When your enemy is up in the air, it gives you a helpless feeling."

Royan edged instinctively closer to him, staring up.

The green and scarlet machine disappeared over the hump of the subgorge,

down towards the monastery.

"Unless he's just on a joy-ride, he's probably looking for our camp,'

Nicholas guessed. "Under orders from the main man to keep tabs on us."

"He will have no trouble finding it. Boris made no attempt to conceal

the huts," Royan said uneasily. "Let's get out of here, then." She stood

up.

"Good plan." Nicholas was about to follow her, when suddenly he caught

her hand and drew her down again.

"Hold it. They are coming back this way."

The engine beat was rising again. Then they caught a glimpse of the

helicopter through the canopy of leaves and thorn branches overhead.

"Now he is following the river. Still searching for something, by the

looks of it."

"Us?"Royan asked nervously.

"If they are under orders from the head man, could be," Nicholas agreed.

The machine was very close now, and the shrill whine of the engine was

deafening.

At that moment Tamre's nerve broke. He let out a wail of terror, "It is

the Devil, come to take me; Save me, Jesus Christ the Saviour, save me!'

Nicholas put out a hand to restrain him, but he was not quick enough.

Tamre broke free and leaped to his feet.